Page 7 of The Roommate Lie

It isn’t close either, that sound. If Charlie leaned toward me earlier, he’s back on his side of the car now. Yet the shadow over my face hasn’t moved.

Slowly, I open my eyes. The car visor on my side has been angled to keep the sun from piercing my retinas—another gentleman move—and Charlie glances at me from behind the steering wheel, beyond amused. As if he knows exactly which conclusions I jumped to.

Holding my gaze, he tries not to laugh. “Waiting for something to happen, Carrots?”

That nickname shouldn’t put me at ease, but it does. Probably because it isn’t paired with a wolfish grin this time that makes my knees buckle. But even relieved, I don’t answer his question. What would I say?

To his credit, he lets me off the hook pretty fast, gesturing to my phone on the floor by my feet. “You’ve got three seconds.”

“Three seconds?”

“My sister sent me a photo of a sketchy Uber driver once. It made us both feel better—but I’m not staying parked like this forever. I’m fine with heights, but these roadside overlooks give me the creeps.” He turns his upper body to face me, ready for his mug shot close-up. “You’ve got three seconds.”

That’s all I need to hear. Snatching my phone off the floor, I line up my shot while he counts down, snapping that picture long before he hits zero. It’s a pretty good one too. As serious and in-focus as an actual mug shot. Perfect for the evening news.

I text it to my brother, and a fresh wave of embarrassment washes over me. Besides that one flirty-predator moment at the ticket counter, Charlie has been nothing but nice to me since I met him. And I’ve been nothing but weird. Glancing up, I mutter the only word I can.

“Thanks.”

“I don’t mind,” he says. But he doesn’t pull back on the road. “I just have one request.”

One request?

He doesn’t pair that with a wolfish grin, but my blood turns to ice, and I try not to break out in hives. What could a guy like that possibly want from a girl like me?

“Now you have to take a regular picture,” he says. “So when you make your vacation photo album, it doesn’t look like I’m the grifter who kidnapped you in Colorado.”

I laugh, relieved. He didn’t say I had to be in it too, but I lean closer, raising my phone to get us both in the shot as we make funny faces for the camera. Once I count down and hit the button, it’s basically the best group selfie I’ve ever taken. A real vacation album gem. But the happiness coursing through me fades too soon.

“All right, Carrots.” Charlie shifts the car back into drive and edges onto the road. “Let’s get you to your boyfriend.”

That should make me feel better. Yet as we finish our drive to the wilderness resort, a new sense of dread fills my stomach. I babble nervously about my boyfriend the entire way. I already told Charlie he came out here for a marketing job a few months ago, but now it’s all I can talk about. How excited he was, and how this was such a great opportunity after getting his master’s degree last year.

None of that chatter distracts me from the feeling in my stomach. Even the dense canopy of pine trees doesn’t help. They unfold around us as we near our destination, the terrain shifting from “dystopian canyon road” to “woodland paradise” in the blink of an eye, but my nerves refuse to settle.

“Did your boyfriend text you back? Does he know we’re coming?”

My lie is immediate. The truth is too embarrassing. “Yep. He’s running a little late, but he’ll meet me out front. You don’t have to wait around.”

If Charlie can tell I’m lying, he doesn’t call me on it. He simply nods as he drives under a massive wooden sign for thePonderosa Falls Wilderness Resort. Then he does what I asked. He pulls up in front of the main lodge, helps me unload my luggage, and gets ready to drive away.

“You sure you don’t want me to wait with you?” he asks one last time, and he sounds so concerned, like he was never a wolf after all. As if he was a secret nice guy this entire time.

“I’m sure. I’ve wasted enough of your day already. Thanks for doing all this, though.”

As he turns to leave, the afternoon sun hits him just right, and he really does remind me of Gilbert Blythe fromAnne of Green Gables. A small-town boy with brown hair and hazel eyes who’s a little bit mischievous but mostly sweet.

“Thanks for the ride, Blythe,” I tell him, and he doesn’t miss a beat.

“No problem, Carrots. Good luck with your guy.”

But when I finally spot my boyfriend a little while later, one thing is crystal clear.

I’m going to need a lot more than luck.

Chapter Four

CHARLIE

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